


Eighty-two Days

by Gypsyfire1066



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Angst, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-23
Updated: 2016-02-23
Packaged: 2018-05-22 18:38:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6090361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gypsyfire1066/pseuds/Gypsyfire1066
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oliver’s inner turmoil about not telling Felicity about William</p>
            </blockquote>





	Eighty-two Days

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer- characters are the property of DC comics and the CW.

Oliver shifted carefully in bed, trying not to disturb Felicity. He was an early riser, and the silent, still moments before Felicity awoke were some of his favorites. Almost every morning as he watched her sleep, her breath even and deep, he marveled that she loved him. That she chose to be with him. 

He woke up with her cradled in his arms every morning, and while he waited for her to wake, he envisioned their future. Five years down the road with a little girl, the mirror image of Felicity, jumping into bed with them. Twenty years, watching their son leave for college. Other times he relived moments from their past.

His eyes traced the outline of her face, waiting for her to awaken. He loved that precise moment she became conscious, the way she grumbled about him watching her sleep, telling him it was awkward. The gentle teasing. The sweet kisses. Yes, this time was his favorite of the day, before the hustle and bustle of the day took over. 

At least it had been. 

Eighty-two days ago. 

Before he found out he had a son. 

Now, all he could think about was lying to Felicity. Every day he played out different scenarios in his head for telling her. Every day he promised himself, and her, that this was the day. But it never was. And each day he went without telling her, he hated himself more. 

Sometimes life got in the way. Sometimes he heard Barry in his head telling him she broke up with him because of William. Sometimes he just plain chickened out. 

Either way, it was now eighty-two days later, and Felicity still didn’t know. The wedding was in a month, and the guilt was piling on. Thea’s assurance that he was doing the right thing was hollow. If he was being honest with himself, Samantha’s demands had nothing to do with why he hadn’t told Felicity. He owed Samantha nothing, his loyalty was to Felicity, the woman he loved, the woman he was going to share his life with. No, if he was being brutally honest, he hadn’t told Felicity because he was afraid of losing her. 

It was in these quite moments that the guilt really ate at him. It was so easy to compartmentalize, to forget, during the day. 

“Today Felicity. I’m going to tell you today. No more chickening out, no more stalling. I’m going to tell you as soon as you wake up,” he whispered quietly, stoking her hair gently. 

“Oliver,” Felicity said groggily, stretching her arms above her head. “Are you talking to yourself again? ‘Cause you woke me up.” 

He smiled, amused at her less than thrilled tone to be awake. He remained quite as she yawned, eyes still closed, hand coming up to cover her mouth. The diamonds in her engagement ring caught the faint sunlight coming in through the curtains mocking him. Sobering him. 

_Now or never_ , he thought, taking a deep breath. “Felicity… there’s something I need to tell you,” he said. 

Finally opening her eyes, she looked at him for a moment. “Alright,” she said. “But not before coffee. Coffee is a must.” 

“I can handle that,” he said getting up, throwing on a pair of sweat pants. 

He had just reached the door when her phone began ringing. Turning back, he leaned against the door frame as she answer it, simultaneously praying for an emergency so he would have more time and cursing himself for being such a coward. 

“What? No no no no no!” she said, throwing the blanket off. 

Oliver rushed over, squatting down in front of her. “What’s wrong?” 

She waved a hand at him, silencing him. “We aren’t ready! They can’t move it up. Again!” She listened for a moment, “Alright, alright. I’ll be there as soon as I can.” 

“What is it?” He asked again as she disconnected the call, his thumbs rubbing circles on her knees. 

“The board moved the meeting again. Curtis is going to stall as long as he can, but I’ve got to go.” 

Oliver shook his head, relief coursing through him. “Of course. I’ll make that coffee to go?” 

“Thanks,” she said, leaning over to kiss him. “I love you.”

“Love you to,” he replied. 

**19 hours later**

Oliver groaned as he opened the door to the loft, a glance at his watch told him it was just after one in the morning. Felicity was probably asleep already. It had been a long day, and the two leads he was following were a waste of time. He was planning to go after a third, but John assured him it could wait until tomorrow. 

Quickly grabbing a bottle of water from the refrigerator, he turned off the light Felicity had left on, then headed upstairs. The lead was probably fruitless, as the others had been, but John’s gentle prodding had more to do with making sure Oliver got home in time to see Felicity. The meeting with the board had not gone well and she and Curtis had stayed late at Palmer Tech working. By the time they were done, it was late, so Oliver just encouraged her to go home. Have a night off. That she agreed immediately told him how tired and frustrated she was. 

Pulling his shirt over his head as he entered their room, he sighed when he saw her sprawled out on his side of the bed. Asleep. Setting the water on the nightstand, he eased onto the bed, bending over to remove his shoes. Placing his elbows on his knees, his head dropped into his hands. 

Like he had for the past eighty-two days, his plans of telling her about William vanished. And like he’d been for the past eighty-two days, he was relieved. Disgust rushed through him. He should just wake her up and tell her. Get it over with. She would be mad, livid, but he prayed she would be understanding. It time anyway. He’d rationalized his decision to uphold Samantha’s promise on the fact that Felicity had grown up without a father. 

He got up, sighing as he grabbed his sweat pants from the foot of the bed. Who was he kidding? Felicity would be spitting mad at him. There was no excuse for letting eighty-two days pass without telling her. 

_Tomorrow_ , he promised himself as he slipped into bed beside her. _Tomorrow I will tell her_.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
